


Bumps and Bruises

by just_desserts



Category: Sherlock - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, First Dates, First Meetings, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 12:27:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5090714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/just_desserts/pseuds/just_desserts
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's the night of John's first football game at uni. He's distracted and day dreaming as he walks across campus and bumps into someone who immediately captures his attention. He talks to his roommate Greg about it and he gives him a little bit of insight that could make something of that bump.<br/>A/U University days</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bumps and Bruises

**Author's Note:**

> So this is my first attempt at a Sherlock short. I've written others but this one has a sort of cute quality to it that I hope you like as much as I do.

He stared at his open book, the page open to something he could barely comprehend, something about Cellular Respiration. But that was only a title. The next 43 pages were full of details on a process that he did everyday but couldn't figure out how it worked.

Sighing, John stood up from his desk, shutting his Biology book with a loud thwap. Somewhere under the blankets of the bed in the darkened corner, his room mate made a grumbling noise.

"Quiet down over there, Watson. Some of us have the decency of sleeping at 7am."

John smirked over at his form, throwing his books into his bag and grabbing his blue coat. "Some of us have the decency of not staying out until 2am, Greg," he chided, hearing another moan escape the man's lips. "I'm heading to the library, alright? Ring me if you need any bloody pain killers for your nasty headache you old sod,"

Lestrade mumbled something incomprehensible as John shut the door with a low chuckle. His friendship with Greg was strange to say the least, but it was more so because they teased each other constantly. It was always good to banter every once in awhile anyway, and he enjoyed his time with Greg Lestrade. Before now, he never would have guessed he'd be friends with a man like him though.

Ever since John Watson had reached university, he felt distant from everything he had known before coming here. He barely talked to his family, never mentioned old friends, and he tried not to mention his status as a football player back home. Now he was an average forward with average grades, normal-ish friends, and an average life.

He really couldn't imagine life being better.

John whistled as he walked down the short hallway outside his room, rounding the corner only to tromp down the short flight of stairs that lead to the main campus. His books felt heavy on his shoulders, his bag slung over his back in a way that seemed to drag him down, but he was still smiling, still excited for the big game tonight on their home pitch. He was hoping people would come out for the opening of the season, especially since it was his first real game here. He imagined the crowd screaming as they scored, the final minutes ticking down as they won---

His shoulder rammed into a tall, lanky form that passed him and he gripped it tightly as he spun toward's the person, an apology on his lips.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't see you-" he trailed off, glancing up at the taller man who's eyes were staring at him. But they weren't the sort of color eyes you expected it all. They were baby blue, then sea foam green, then navy. They changed in the instant he blinked and his head spun as he stared at this man in front of him.

"I just suggest you watch where you're going next time," the man said, his voice low and resonant and it sent shivers down John's spine. He reminded him of someone he'd seen. Someone high up in the university... Mycroft Holmes, President of the Board of Directors. He looked like Mr. Holmes, though John wasn't sure why or how he knew that. Other than the angry expression, there wasn't much similar about them.

He blinked, realizing that the man was in fact angry and that now was not the time to be comparing him to someone that most likely he had no relation to. "Hey," he said, his eyebrows creasing in frustration. "I didn't mean to run into you. It was purely by accident,"

"Some accident," the man scoffed.

His ears were ringing. How dare he speak to him like that? Who the bloody hell did he think he was? "Excuse me? I apologized, isn't that enough?"

The man rolled his beautiful eyes and John's heart seemed to skip a beat. But he was angry, upset at this very rude man. Wasn't he?

"Just watch where you're going the next time," he said, his voice still low and heart-stopping.

"Alright," John said quietly as the man started walking away, pausing momentarily at the dorm door to glance back at John. At that, his heart stopped.

 

>

 

"Who was this?"

Greg was leaning forward on the bed, his eyes wide and intense, as if John wasn't just telling him about the accidental bump that had occurred out in the sidewalk. As if it was more than that. But it hadn't been, had it?

John sighed, resting a hand on his forehead and squeezing momentarily. "I don't know. It's not like we introduced each other before he started screaming in my bloody face-"

"He screamed?"

"Well- no."

"So what actually happened, John?"

John blinked. That was an excellent question. What the hell had happened on that broken slab of pavement not 10 meters from his dorm?

"I-" he started, glancing out the window and creasing his brow. "I don't know,"

Greg shook his head, as if he were coming out of some sort of haze. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I'm not sure what happened,"

"Well, start from the beginning."

John nodded, blinking and returning his gaze to the man sitting on the opposite bed, his head resting against the side wall so it was slightly crooked as he sat there. "I guess I was day-dreaming, not paying attention and I walked straight into him." He paused, licking his lips before Lestrade could get a word in. "He said to watch where I was going next time-" he trailed off, looking up helplessly at his friend's face.

Greg smiled. "He could have just as easily walked around you,"

"What?"

"He didn't have to bump into you, or make you feel bad. He could have moved around you is all,"

John's eyes widened a little in revelation. "You have a point,"

"Unless he wanted to bump into you,"

"Why on earth would he do that?"

"How the bloody hell should I know. I don't know this guy or anything else about him! I'm simply saying maybe he meant to do it,"

John felt a smile play on his lips. "You're absolutely right,"

Greg groaned, closing his eyes and placing a hand over them. "I know that look."

"What look?"

"The look-"

"It's my face,"

"No it's not. You're doing a thing with your face,"

John rolled his eyes, grabbing his books and laying on top of his bed to study for awhile before he had to change into his uniform and be out on the pitch. "Fine fine, whatever you say Gregory-"

"My name's not Gregory,"

John smiled for real, holding back a laugh as models of mitochondria and Cellular Respiration swam through his thoughts again.

 

>

 

It happened again the next morning as he was heading to the cafeteria. John was giddy to say the least after a long night of celebration with the team following a huge win to start the season. He hadn't felt well after waking up, however, but figured a good cuppa could fix whatever hangover he had.

The weather was brisk, something that perked him up a bit. It meant he could wear some of the jumpers he had brought with just for this autumn chill. This morning in his rather tired state he had chosen a tan one, a dark pair of blue jeans, and loafers. It seemed fitting.

He was rubbing his left eye as he walked down the stairs and out onto the old sidewalk again, barely missing a passing girl who smiled at his flirtatiously. He tried for a friendly smile back and kept walking before she could strike up a conversation.

He turned forward again just in time to see the tall man bump into him more gently this time. His eyes widened and he gripped his shoulder again, a mild grimace on his face.

"We really should stop running into each other like this," he managed before gazing up at those ever-changing eyes for the second time in two days.

The man tried for a smile that looked more like a smirk. "We really should. Or at least you should still pay attention."

John shrugged which hurt his shoulder but he tried not to show it. "I'm not the only one at fault."

There was a brief pause as the man's brow wrinkled in confusion, or perhaps shock. John couldn't tell which it was. "What?" The man's lips wrapped around the word oddly, as if he had never uttered it in his life.

He smirked. "Someone pointed out to me that you could just as easily move around me, unless there's something wrong with your side of the pavement?" The man raised an eyebrow and for a moment John felt an odd sort of rush in his stomach. "But you wouldn't want to do that. No, you wanted to run into me the past couple days, and I'd like to know why," John felt his eyes narrow the longer he spoke, his feet moving him closer to the man. His heart was pounding in his chest, a bit from nervousness but mostly from the thrill of it all.

The man shrugged, gazing down at him. John suddenly realized the height difference now that he was closer. He noticed the angled curves of his pale face, the high cheekbones that were sharper than he'd ever seen on a man, how his hair was made up of dark, perfect curls, the long black coat he wore, and the blue tie wrapped tightly around his long neck. He noticed everything in that moment and he had to remind himself to breath in and out at a steady pace.

"I'm not sure how to reply to that," the man said. "No one ever figures it's on purpose, and no one ever asks about it." He shrugged. "Most people don't care enough, which is why my bumping into them never results in any sort of friendship. They usually just throw me a dirty glare and keep walking. But you-" he steeled his eyes, but not in a harsh way, more as if he were trying to smile with just the the half of his face. "You noticed. You stopped, apologized, everything."

John felt a small blush creep up his neck. "And? Those weren't the only reasons you stopped today to talk."

The man laughed. "No, I was seeing if you'd react the same as yesterday, if you were smart enough to figure it out. And you are, congratulations." He paused, tucking his scarf further into his coat and undoing the top button. "I must say I've learned a lot about you in less then 2 minutes total between yesterday and today. You wear expensive cologne, so that must mean you come from money. But it's not too strong so you don't like to waste it. Probably because you don't like to show off your wealth, but also because it reminds you of home or else you wouldn't wear it at all." The man stopped, his smirk present and John could feel his mouth hanging open slightly. "You're more dressed up than yesterday despite your partial hang-over, and based on your rebuff of what I suppose is considered a decent-looking girl that attempted to flirt with you, you weren't aiming to attract the notice of any girls. Boys then, okay. The only new person I suspect you've met is me, based on the fact you aren't meeting anyone on your route to where ever it is you're going this morning. It's too early to study, and it's just about tea time, so the cafeteria it is. Anyway, about the attire. I must say I'm flattered, more than that actually. But alas, I have things to do, people to belittle." He stepped back, unbuttoning his coat further as he made a move towards the dorm door. "Have a nice day," he turned away, his eyes still trying to smile.

John opened his mouth, his eyes slightly widened. He wasn't just going to leave now, was he? "Wait," he called, his mind still turning from the deductions the man had made. How could he know about John? Know he had begun to like this mysterious man in the long coat, the man that he held on a pedestal, that seemed too familiar and distant all at once?

The man turned, his eyes questioning.

"You're not just going to leave are you?"

This apparently threw him. His brow scrunched again in confusion. "I had planned on it. Most people don't carry on a conversation in two different locations, unless you're crazy, which I don't suspect you are." His eyes smile again. "I would have figured that out already,"

John laughed, his heart still pounding but there were butterflies in his stomach. Suddenly he wasn't just intrigued by this man, he was utterly amazed. "You can't just leave! That was amazing what you did! And now you're going to dash off? I don't think so," he paused, genuinely awed. He hesitated a moment, suspecting his offer would be turned down but asking anyway because he was hoping he wouldn't decline. "Come on, get some tea with me. I've got a killer headache and if I shut you up awhile with a cuppa maybe that will make it go away. All this banter is making my head hurt badly, and any future banter will worsen it so just shut up and come with me to get a drink,"

At this the man looked baffled, not confused exactly but beyond surprised, maybe at John's word choice, or perhaps because no one had ever asked him this before. Or maybe because he was trying to get him to go out with him, which was the objective. The man couldn't not sense that, especially after deducing he like him, could he? It was too obvious, even to John who was trying to he subtle.

"Then wouldn't you prefer to go alone?" The man's eyes looking distant, vulnerable, as if he expected John to say 'just kidding' and high/tail it out of there in seconds.

"God no, have you seen the people that go there? All sociable as hell. They'll try to start a conversation with me and at this point I don't really think I could handle that this morning,"

The man smiled for real, his lips slanting up and his perfectly white teeth showing between them. "Only if you're insisting,"

John smiled back. He beckoned him and they started walking side by side, not talking about anything of real interest but laughing a bit as they went. They walked until they reached the large cafeteria building, the doors closed, but loud noises coming from behind them.

John glanced over and made a gesture for him to go first. He suddenly remembered he had never introduced himself. "By the way, I'm John. John Watson,"

The man paused, smiling as he walked in through the door in front of him and looked back over his shoulder, the cafeteria chaos just beyond.

"The name's Sherlock Holmes."


End file.
